Warrior Birth

"Next time I'm just booking a cesarean."
"My first birth was so traumatic - I want drugs the moment I start labour."
"I can't walk through the door of a hospital again."
"I think we'd better adopt our second child."

To all the women who say these words...
Please know that it wasn't your fault.
It wasn't your faulty body.
It wasn't your faulty mind.
It wasn't that you lacked will power.
It just wasn't a normal labour.
No guilt or blame.
It just wasn't a normal labour.

If you were surrounded by loving, caring people.
If you did the best you could, but the birth still shook you to your core.
If it was long and hard and unfathomable and didn't feel right...
there is usually a simple explanation.
Something just wasn't quite right.
It didn't have to be something big.
It could have been a sweet pair of hands by the baby's face,
or a head tilted to one side,
or facing out a hip,
or looking upwards.
Just bad luck on a big day.

This is the baby who didn't get the memo
about optimal positioning for birth.

Picture the baby who will come out simply and easily.
She's tucking her head down on her chest,
facing mum's bum,
has her hands in her pockets,
and is going to win the Olympic gold medal for the skeleton competition in 2030.
She's aerodynamic, flexible, adaptable,
and able to negotiate all turns with the grace of a pro.

She's lucky
born in the bathtub,
with her mum laughing.

Don't be hard on those babies who didn't get the memo,
those babies whose mums made those scary comments after the first birth.
These babies will never follow the crowd.
They'll be fiery and challenging, but totally brilliant (that's my girl!)
They're the ones who create great architecture, great music.
They are born with these passions tucked deep inside.
(Or maybe that's just me trying to put a positive spin on a difficult labour.)

The posterior/transverse/deflexed/asynclitic/compound presentation baby
tries to negotiate the birth canal
like a pine tree on the edge of a wind-swept cliff edge.
Bent, twisted.
He faces the hip, or faces forward, chin up, whatever the consequence.
This is not a birth for the faint of heart.
This is a warrior's birth.

So, when a woman calls to tell me about her first birth,
that long, epic first birth,
the one that she never thought would end,
and says that she can't ever do it again...

I ask her to thank her first baby for all the work that he or she has done.
We must not worry him or blame her.
First births are unrelenting in their demands,
because that is what is needed for us to be the best mothers to our children.
I remind her of her strength, her courage, her power as a mother.

She must have been a warrior to make it through
and out the other side.
She needs to know that it can be different,
oh, so different the next time.
I, too, have made it through that kind of a birth
then danced in the shower with my second.

She is not alone.

And, like Katie, she may choose to have her next baby at home, with the fan on, in the summer.

And, like Jasmine, she may not actually believe she's in labour until it's almost too late for a car ride, and then pant and blow through the tunnel to the hospital, and have the baby quickly on the other side.

And, like Lisa, she may find herself doing the "buzzard lope" around the house, and only get on a bed for the last few minutes of a beautiful labour.

And, like Trish, she may choose to have a vaginal birth after cesarean on her living room floor, while the trees blow outside.

And, like Shelley, she may not believe that her second birth could actually be easy until the last minute, and give birth standing up in the hospital bath-tub, then order baby back ribs for dinner.

She is not alone.
She can do this,
no matter what happens

This is her story.

- Jacquie Munro, Vancouver Doula, Slow Birth, Slow Planet

"I'd like to order one epidural in the parking lot, please"

During our initial phone call, many first-time mums nervously laugh, then ask me if I can just order them a fast birth "and one epidural in the parking lot, please." It sounds like a drive-through order.

"Why?" I ask myself. Really fast births don't allow the body to churn out all those wonderful pain-relieving endorphins (boy, do you want them!) Fast births don't allow any time for the brain to keep up with what the body is doing. Actually, my least satisfied client had a 45-minute labour and birth. She said, "I waited 40 years to give birth, and THAT'S IT??? It was so fast, I missed it!"

Fast births may increase your level of fear, or result in a greater likelihood of heavy bleeding. If your body naturally gives you a fast birth, that's just fine.  But, I wouldn't willingly force a normal labour to move faster than it should.  And, for those wanting to order "one epidural, please" in the parking lot...with a fast birth, there's just no time.

So, what to do? Wouldn't you rather have a birth that's just right for you? Not too long, not too short, just right. Kind of like the chair, or the bed, or the porridge in The Three Bears. Just right.

Isn't a lovingly prepared meal that's simmered on the stove much better than fast food? It's harder work, there's some prep time needed, it takes more time to cook, but it's SO worth it.

We're given nine months to prepare for birth - a good long prep time. But so many people just fill that time with classes and shopping and renovations and new cars and new homes, and paint (always paint.) All this, for one tiny being who just wants a warm body to hold him, and a couple of breasts!

Women often forget to take long slow walks on the beach, doing the inner work of pregnancy. Old fears, habits, and family dynamics bubble up as each week progresses, and need to be addressed. After twenty-one years of attending births, I see that unresolved issues can often stop a labour in its tracks.

One woman made it easily to the pushing stage, then everything stopped. No matter what she did, there was no urge to push, nothing, for two hours. After a while, the doctor said, "We'll just leave. You might be worrying about something, or have something to work through. Why don't we leave you alone with your partner for a while? Just come get us when the baby's coming."

We were called back half an hour later. She had been holding onto a secret since the age of 15. Once she released the secret to her partner, the baby came in just a few pushes.

The hormones at play during late pregnancy and labour have taken millions of years to develop to perfection. Hormones soften the body, making the joints feel like they are attached only by elastic bands. The uterus becomes more responsive, letting each woman know if she's done too much that day, or not had enough water to drink. Women start to wake up more frequently in the middle of the night, in preparation for those moonlit nights with the baby.

The baby is an active partner in the birth, burrowing and stretching. One woman the other day said that she kept imagining a cartoon mole, pressing and wiggling deeper. Other women have said it feels like a pearl diver, pushing off the side of a rock, diving deeper.

Each labour takes as long as the body needs. Time is needed to allow the hormones to work, in concert, undisturbed. If there's a slow beginning to labour, the body has its own reason, or the mind is keeping a lid on things.

Yesterday's birth was another amazing story of trust and slowness and, ultimately, surrender. (Months earlier, she had been interested in that epidural in the parking lot, but she had educated herself, and now she wanted a slow birth.) She started to feel things a few days before the baby finally came. With the help of long phone calls to me, pep talks, warm baths, lots of distraction, and good food, she made it through the days.

"This is not labour yet," I kept reminding her. "Think of these infrequent cramps as your new normal." She used her hypnobirthing techniques of relaxation and fear-release to accept the pace of her body and baby. We talked about the logic of the body, what to expect, how endorphins work, how all the hormones work in concert to move her through to the birth. She leaned on her loving partner to lift her spirits. When he needed a boost, he called me. "Jacquie, what do I do next?"

Then, in the afternoon of the second day of prelabour, she called again. "I'm getting discouraged." She was finding it hard to surrender to the process. I encouraged her to move, to crank up the salsa music and dance, swirl her hips in the shower, to let go. I encouraged her to trust her body, to release any tension, and let the baby come.

An hour later, I called back, because I had the feeling that something new was happening. She said, "Something's happening!" (Yay ESP!) So, I drove over quickly. She was really in labour now.

I found her at home, smiling and calm. "I'm at peace." Her dancing and swirling had moved her into active labour. She was finally able to accept, and surrender to, the "surges" that were coming every three minutes. Within an hour and a half, we were at the hospital. She was already 8-9cm, and ready for a lovely soothing bath.

"Gotta get one of these tubs," she said, as she laboured in the water. "I feel confident. I feel safe. I feel secure," spoke the hypnobirthing tape from the corner of the room.

Four hours later, the baby was born. Quietly. Slowly. Gently. A lovely pink bundle of a baby girl.

Slow birth works, just like slow food. Plain and simple. Just a glorious mix of natural ingredients, without any additives -and so very, very good.

- Jacquie Munro, Vancouver Doula, Slow Birth, Slow Planet

Slow Birth > Mt Kilimanjaro

"Jacquie!" says the voice in the night. "I'm in pain."

It was 1:38am and I had a feeling this wasn't going to be her time. "How often do you feel what you're feeling?" I asked. "About every 10 or 20 minutes. But it really hurts!"

These night-time prelabour calls come often and, just like a baby needs to be calmed before going back to sleep, I just need to offer calming words to each woman, then sleep will come to her soon (after a good long bath). I remind her that the process of having a baby takes weeks, and this is just part of the body's way of preparing. The hormones work even better if she's soft and warm and sleepy...so into a bath, then back to bed. Sleep.

Days later, the real labour call came at 11:27pm at night - from her husband. "She was having a bath again, like the other night. But this time, she leapt out of the bath and started crying out!" Ah! It's her first baby, but when I hear a man's voice, I know I have to fly over. It's time.

Midnight - Contractions are 3 minutes apart and strong. She's moving, standing, sitting, breathing, swaying. She feels hot and cold. She loves when I shake her hips and the power slides down to the ground through her feet. "Jacquie! These aren't contractions! They're expansions!"

"I need to walk!" and she climbs the stairs as each expansion comes, marching back and forth through the house, hands on hips. She's amazing. "Hoo Hoo Hoo..." She runs.

In a Slow Birth, we trust the labour to tell us what to do. We're not looking at the clock (I don't even own a watch), we sense the increasing rhythm of the labour. The signs are always there - the blood (that's good), the clothes being stripped off (oh, so good), the nausea (it will go as soon as the stomach empties - quickly!), the shine on the tummy, the glowing face, the knees, and then...

"Pressure in my bum!"

We arrive at the hospital at 2am, after a safe drive through the empty streets, cool air fresh on her face. Almost 8cm, melting to 10cm. She's ready to push within half an hour.

Birth is sacred, and this birth is fresh and new, so the rest of the birth story belongs to this couple, crazy and hard and slow...and proud.

"Bonjour, bonjour!" I leave them three hours after the birth, curled around each other, the baby at the breast. "That was harder than Mt Kilimanjaro!"

- Jacquie Munro, Vancouver Doula, Slow Birth, Slow Planet

Gentle Birth, Gentle Mothering

I've just ripped open my delivery of new books. I love new books. Shiny, unmarked. I have this crazy habit of wanting to keep the books that way, so I never crack a spine. The only book that is messy and crazy bent is my old edition of "Your Baby and Child" from 1983 that is now in the safe-keeping of my daughter.

So, with the packing dumped on the floor, I curled into my big chair to look at Sarah Buckley's book "Gentle Birth, Gentle Mothering". I've been wanting to read this book for a long time. As a lurker on the Maternity Care Discussion Group (MCDG/Matrix) email list, I read Dr. Sarah's posts from Australia and know that I'm going to love whatever she's written. She gets birth. She just gets it.

So, I started laughing when I read the blurb on the back of the book...she writes about "undisturbed birth", the need to surrender, the need to turn off the clocks... Hey, that's what I say to my clients! Those are my words! I've been using these words for over 20 years!

But none of this is ours...it all belongs to birth. Birth, if we listen closely, tells us the truth about us, our bodies, and our minds. Sarah's words are my words because we both listen to birth.

I think I'm going to enjoy this book...

Later...(2/1/09)...I'm still reading Gentle Birth, Gentle Mothering by Sarah Buckley, but I think I'm going to have to make this required reading for clients (with Ina May Gaskin's Guide to Childbirth). Sarah discusses everything that I've been telling my clients for years, but she includes the updated research citations to back it all up. Read the "Undisturbed Birth" section, and you won't look at birth quite the same ever again. It is quite compelling...
Much later...(2/6/09)...I was sad to finish this amazing book, and handed it off to my daughter, Sarah, for her appraisal. I'm getting phone updates: "The gestational diabetes section is great - a bit overwhelming, but her conclusion is priceless." I'll get it back from her and start reading it again...

- Jacquie Munro, Vancouver Doula

Two baby girls in 24 hours

Well...it was a busy day. LL's water broke late Monday night (first baby), but there were no contractions immediately. She said that she'd try to sleep and call me in the morning. Only a few hours later, the phone rang. I answered, thinking that the contractions must have started quickly...but it was LF in labour with her third baby. I knew she was going to be quick, so I crossed my fingers and headed off to meet them at the hospital.

This is always a dance for a doula...two clients at once. I knew I had backup at the ready, but I felt pretty sure that I'd be able to make it to both. I just had a feeling... I decided not to panic.

At about 5am, I was at the hospital with LF. She was at the "I really don't like this any more" point, and feeling more "pushy", and I knew that the baby would be born around breakfast time. My phone rang...it was LL's husband. They'd started contractions at about 3:30am but had held out, wanting me to get a good sleep. Ah...but I was already up and deep into another labour. I reassured them that my backup (daughter Sarah) would be there as my mini-me within 20 minutes, and that I would follow, probably around 9am.

Well, it miraculously worked out just like that. LF's baby came in pretty much one smooth push...amazing...beautiful. The staff were attentive and trusted her through and through (not even a vaginal exam to confirm full dilation - just a trust in the mum's own body wisdom) and the baby came so sweetly.

Not long afterwards, I heard from Sarah, "We're heading to the hospital" (not the same hospital that I was at...of course). I hugged the new mum who was still glowing (can I tell everyone that you're an amazing 50 years young, LF?) and headed through the slippery snow to LL. I found her in her apartment lobby, hugged my daughter, and followed LL and her husband to the hospital.

After a quick assessment, we headed back to their home for extended shower time, then returned to the hospital hours later...and thankfully qualified for a beautiful room (5+cm dilated will get you the "Hilton").

Now, earlier in the morning, LL had told Sarah that she had a feeling that the baby's hand was up near the head. Well...12 hours later...after hours and hours of powerful pushing (we really pulled out all our tricks) we saw that baby...right arm crossing her chest and her hand up by her left ear. LL had managed to push out that baby, despite one of the more challenging compound presentations ever. She DID IT!

Two triumphant mums. Two beautiful girls. One thrilled doula...who tumbled into bed exactly 24 hours after she woke up. What a fabulous day!

Thanks to all the amazing staff who went above and beyond to help these two mums have the best experiences ever. And to the amazing doc who helped us squeak out the "let's think outside the box" baby...you are truly gifted. Thank you for trusting birth - completely.

- Jacquie Munro, Vancouver Doula

Myth #783 - Birth is Scary

After she had her baby the other day, this new mum said, "You know, once you're in it, labour isn't scary! You just do it!"

I have so many clients who have carried the fear of childbirth with them for years and years. Some even postpone the event for as long as possible, just because their friends (or families) have told such horror stories over the years.

I tell my clients that our bodies aren't going to spring something TOTALLY NEW on us when we're in labour. Birth is something you know! Contrary to popular belief, labour really feels like period cramps, low down, way down there, NOT all over your body. And it comes and goes (unlike period cramps which are continuous and can last for days). Yes, it gets very strong, but, as long as the birth is normal and you have continuous support, it is totally do-able (not totally fun). (Remember, the World Health Organization believe that 10% of birth should be cesareans, no more. That means that 90% of births should be "do-able".)

Surprisingly, labour can be frustrating, even BORING, at the beginning. Your body hasn't taken pity on you and started the endorphin surge yet (ah, when it comes, SO good). Until those endorphins kick in, you're fully present, fully raw, feeling and thinking and using your left brain (nasty left brain). You start to think, "If it's like this now, I'll never be able to take it when it's 10 times worse." It shouldn't be scary if your doula is talking you through this part on the phone, or popping over to your house, if necessary. But, hang on, if birth is undisturbed (that's the key!), then it never gives you more than you can bear. Active labour begins, your endorphins kick in, and your body goes into auto-pilot...no thinking...you just "do". And you can do it!

Your friends probably found labour scary because they didn't have the assistance of a doula or midwife, didn't have an undisturbed birth, didn't work through their fears in advance...nine out of ten times you'll find that the couple were on their own, left to stumble through it alone. Now that's scary!

So, the other day, we headed to the hospital when her contractions were close together and very strong. Bloody show - check. Feeling pressure - check. Contractions palpate as strong - check! She was at the "frickety! frickety!" stage (as one mum described it). She loved standing by the sink, both at home, then at the hospital. We got through the passing request for an epidural (always happens at 5cm) and out the other side (I was thankfully backed up by our amazing nurse). As her labour progressed and the endorphins kicked in (big time!), her face became smoother, she began to sway her hips, she became calm and quiet. The lights were low. It was beautiful to watch her labour progress undisturbed. I knew everything would be fine.

This is a woman who had thought that labour would be very scary. But, with support, she found that this was something that she'd done so many different times over her lifetime - labour was a challenge which she could meet. She had the mental fortitude, life experience, and the tools at hand. Birth was something she knew. I don't think she'll be scared about anything again.

Crashing through our fears and our cultural myths is what's scary - Birth isn't.

- Jacquie Munro, Vancouver Doula

On Keeping Tidy

Myth #3297:
"You shouldn't have a home birth because it's too messy!"

One client's mother, a surgeon, was concerned about her daughter's decision to have a home birth because, "I walk around the OR with my boots covered in blood, dear. It would be SUCH a mess!" I asked her if we walk around our houses during our periods with our boots covered in blood. "Well, no," she answered. "That's silly. We wear pads or tampons." After her daughter's home birth, the surgeon Grandma was amazed..."I guess it's the docs that cause the mess!"

Well...labour at home (even when planning a hospital birth) is clean because we are used to keeping clean when we bleed on a monthly basis. Labour is no different. And, for some reason, women seem to lose WAY less blood at home births - a matter of fully functioning hormones, perhaps?

I think of all the clean and tidy home births that I've attended over the years, and compare them to the memories of some messy (read "gory") hospital births that I've seen. Women just don't realize how fun it can be for the doula and midwives to keep a house tidy during a home birth. All the supplies are laid out on a table (basically, like a modern Mary Poppins, the midwives open their bags and bring the hospital to your home) and two large bags (one for garbage, one for laundry - see photo) are at the ready. The woman in labour wears pads, uses the shower or bath to stay clean, and we make sure the bed is double-dressed with good sheets (for a glorious postpartum - see photo) under waterproofing. Within an hour of the birth, the bedroom looks like it does in the second picture.

I make sure that, by the time the woman has finished her post-birth shower, I've provided the "turn-down service," any dirty dishes (from the post-birth lasagna) are in the dishwasher, and any dirty towels or clothes are in the washer. The joyful swish-swish of the dishwasher, and the thrum of the dryer even sound clean. Family members can come for a visit and not believe that a birth took place right in the middle of the living room!

Hospitals can afford to let the birthing rooms get very messy - someone else is going to clean up (though I do try to make sure that things are tidy throughout - I'm a neatnick!) Floors can be sanitized, and sheets are just thrown into the hamper for industrial cleaning. No one gets into trouble for tracking blood/fluids all over, and the placenta just hangs out in a bowl on a table (not fun for visitors!) (Notice that I'm not going to start a discussion about the possibility of infection at the hospital.)

I've attended some rather impromptu home births over the years (a speedy labour with no way to get to the hospital in time), and have managed to keep things together with just one Canadian Tire waterproof blanket (right, Laurel?) Chuck the blanket away and the cleaning is all done!
And, no...you don't have to clean up after yourself! Just one client tried that. We caught her on hands and knees, half an hour after birth, cleaning the tiles in the bathroom, "so the dog won't know I had my baby in here!" She was just supposed to be going to the toilet!!!

So, let your decision to have a home or hospital birth be based on information that matters. Where would you feel the safest? Just do your homework, then know that, if your baby is born at home, all will be tidy, and your bed will await. You will just have to walk to your bed, and climb in - it might even have a chocolate on the pillow!

Birth with Two Snowmen

Birth is never what we expect. Even though we may say we don't have expectations...we do.

So, when I arrive at the hospital around 6am with a client who is 7cm and stretchy to full dilation...there's a part of me that expects her to be happy and nursing her baby by lunchtime. Admit it, Jacquie...after almost 800 births as a doula...you do have certain expectations.

Yes, I must admit, I do have some expectations. But, so do you. If someone told you the birth story later..."she had her beautiful baby girl at dinner time"...you might say, "I expect that she had an epidural (isn't that something that usually slows the labour?)" But, no, she had no epidural, no pain meds at all. Things just slowed down to 1 or 2 contractions every ten minutes for most of the day. She even managed to sleep.

What made things slow down? Probably not just one thing. Perhaps it was a combination of our collective expectation (totally subconscious), head position (asynclitic/deflexed), and/or compound presentation (hand or cord in the way?) Or maybe it was, as some cultures believe, the will of the baby. She might have just wanted to be born at dinner time..."I don't like breakfast!"

So, though I'm sure we all had the expectation of a quick and uncomplicated birth, that just wasn't this mum and dad and baby's story. This birth was our reminder to respect the need for infinite patience, and to respect each baby's journey, each family's journey together.

How else would we all have had such a special day to watch the snow quietly, honour the passage of time, and see their family gather, build two snowmen, and shed great tears of joy when the baby finally arrived. I don't think the day would have been quite so wonderful otherwise.

- Jacquie Munro, Vancouver Doula

The Recovery Effect

It's really odd. Whenever I'm recovering from an illness, all the births come easily and quickly. So, what's with that? In the first couple of weeks after I returned to work after my Uterine Fibroid Embolization, I laughingly said to clients that I could only manage a 6-hour labour. It was a joke! But, they all obliged.

No, I don't really think it's a fluke, because it's happened before. When I was recovering from pneumonia one year, all births in the recovery month were speedy, and I seemed to spend less than 6 hours with each. No kidding! (And, no, it wasn't that I showed up late and left early.)

It seems to be the same effect that occurs on a day when there's a nursing shortage(due to fabulous weather?) at the hospital. If I'm told by the assessment nurse that there are only beds for women who arrive "ready to push", then my client miraculously speeds to full dilation in no time at all.

The mind is a powerful and wonderful thing...

My only worry is...now that I'm totally well and feeling great...will my clients have long births again?

Hmmm...a dilemma...

Anyway, here's a snapshot of the births that I've attended recently...

Eli - Ah, the beautiful boy who wanted to get here extra early. "What? They want to send you to Prince George to have the baby? I'll fix this!" And we fixed it. Phew! Now THAT was a whirwind birth...17 minutes from "I think the baby's coming", was it?

Eva - How can I be even more emphatic in future when I tell clients to get in the car (during what they think is early labour) and head to the hospital? "Yes, I know your first birth was long...but you had forceps! There's a wide open freeway available for this baby, and she's going to use it!" We met at 69th and Oak...and panted and breathed all the way to the hospital. I'm so happy that we have cell phones to alert the doctors and nurses that we're INCOMING! "We did it!" cries mum.

Noah - Another second baby who followed the "slow slow easy...BOOM!" entry to the world, thanks to a doctor who knows how to spin babies. I love these posterior babies with strong personalities. They certainly know how to make a grand entrance when they decide to come (4-10cm in 20 minutes)!

Ella - A first baby who wanted to pretend that she was a second baby... Ella made her mum dance and sway, then make a dash to the backseat of my car (funny memory of the concierge trying to focus on reading his paper while she laboured in the lobby). Zip up to Cedar at BC Women's...and voila! Ella came so quickly that it surprised pretty much everyone. The sun shone through the skylight...amazing.

Lauren - Wow...another first baby who wanted to earn the speed record (4-10cm in less than 2 hours, when you'd expect 6 hours). I just love mum's words as she started to push..."It wasn't that bad." ...and dad noticing that the baby sounded like a "baby pterodactyl". Just wonderful!

Oscar - He came so quickly for a first baby...unexpectedly born in the hospital, but home before bedtime. His mum laboured with grace, and his dad touched his head, a sacred act, just minutes before he was born. Sweet pea!

Amaan - A dark night...driving through the rainy streets...a long walk up a hill to the hospital entrance (stop, hug, pant, breathe)...then gentle care as the baby comes quickly. "I did it! I felt it all!" Welcome little one.
What a triumph!

What a joy and a gift to be able to be a witness these miracles.

- Jacquie Munro, Vancouver Doula

Lady in Waiting

If you’re having a hospital birth, perhaps one of the most challenging parts of labour is the transition from your home to the hospital. Many couples worry about the car ride to the hospital, but it’s amazing to see how most women manage the ride with surprising grace. If the car ride is timed so that it coincides with the trance induced by high levels of endorphins (well past the mid-point of labour), then the whole journey can be manageable.

To illustrate - I vividly remember one client’s ride to BC Women’s from UBC. It was around 4am. She threw a coat over her naked body, somehow managed to run to her car down a long apartment hallway (between contractions), then crawl onto the back seat of her minivan, exposing her bottom to an old man in a trilby hat, who was coincidently walking his little Scotty dog past us at that moment (you should have seen his face!) Bouncing along in the car, this normally private woman laughed and laughed. “That was FUN!” Yes, the trip was uncomfortable, with her husband trying to negotiate hundreds of potholes, but the absurd nature of the trip far outweighed the pain it may have caused.

The stories that result from the car ride can be epic, from the woman riding to the hospital with her head popping out of the sunroof of a Mini, to a recent dad’s call to BCAA: “I locked the keys in my car with the engine running at the Emergency entrance to the hospital!” If you’re lucky, you’ll notice the absurdity in the moment, and laugh.

Now, it’s the hospital assessment room that can be a possible source of stress. If you’re lucky enough to have a midwife who has already completed the assessment at home prior to hospital arrival (which happened last week with one client), you might manage to bypass the assessment room altogether - yahoo! - and go straight to your birthing room. This causes a lot of excitement and very little stress.

The next possibility is that the family doctor will meet you at the front door and do the assessment personally. The continuity of care provided in this scenario is wonderful, and the time spent in the assessment room can be relatively short, provided the hospital can quickly assign you a nurse. There’s also the added bonus of having an additional advocate present to help negotiate the hospital protocols. If I’m lucky, I can coordinate this...but it’s really hit and miss.

If the family doctor is busy with another birth, or en-route, or your primary caregiver is an obstetrician or resident, then we have to hope that the assessment room is not too busy, that all the other women in the assessment room don’t require high levels of care, that the staffing levels aren’t low on this day, and that there’s more than one nurse available to care for the 5 beds in this area. Fingers crossed that the assessment room stay won’t drag into multiple hours, which can easily happen. (I always try to call first, so at least I can alert my clients to the possible delay.)

There are a lot of variables that can increase a woman’s stay in the assessment room. The assessment room nurses (who are amazing, highly qualified, and caring people) do everything in their power to take into account BOTH the triage process and each labouring woman’s needs. There’s a lot of paperwork to be done, protocols to follow, personalities to placate... The assessment room nurse needs 8 arms, two heads, and more than a little wit and understanding, to make it through each shift.

It may appear to clients (husbands especially, since the labouring woman is generally just focused on each contraction) that the nurses are sitting at the desk doing nothing. Often, the people sitting at the nurses desk are not the assessment room nurses, but interns, residents, other doctors, or even a clerk. The supervising nurse in assessment must juggle all her patients to ensure that the woman with the highest care needs can proceed to the next “level”. Granted, the nurse might not be able to explain what she is doing for each woman during the process, but that’s what I try to cover with clients in between contractions. “Yes, it might look like you’re being ignored, but you’re NOT. She’s left the room to negotiate with labour and delivery to have a nurse transfered up to Cedar to be with you, so you don’t have to wait until a Cedar nurse returns from her 45-minute break, etc. etc.” It’s my job to fill in the gaps in information. But, if I need to breathe through the contractions with the woman in labour, the dad will have to wait a bit for my briefing.

Even a 45-minute stay in an assessment bed may seem like an eternity, but it’s about as fast as the system and safety will allow (unless you’re ready to push...then you get to fast forward!) For example, the nurse needs to read a woman’s chart thoroughly to determine her risk status, her drug allergies, her particular needs, and contact her caregiver (and wait for a response). If a nurse is forced to cut corners, a woman could inadvertently be given a contraindicated medication (i.e. fentanyl being given to a woman with an drug allergies), or miss important medical information. I am able to highlight certain important points when I speak personally with the nurse, but she must confirm this by reading through the notes, and then doing a thorough history and assessment herself.

The setting certainly doesn’t make a labouring woman feel safe or calm. The beds are narrow, the space is noisy... But, I ask all clients to imagine that we’re still home, to keep their eyes closed, to focus on a calming hand, the soft pillow, their partner’s voice, my voice. Often I have to talk the woman through each and every contraction, so that she remains calm between each contraction. Yes, she might roar during contractions, but that’s her way of coping. It’s the in-between times that tell us how she’s doing. If she’s able to breathe calmly between contractions, or even say, “Wow! That was intense!” or “I didn’t like THAT one!” then she’s fine. (I try to wangle assessment bed 5...the one with a DOOR!)

As a doula, the assessment room experience is certainly challenging. It takes years of experience to negotiate the process gracefully and diplomatically. Most problems can be prevented creatively. Petty staffing wars can be averted by anticipating them in advance, and steering clear of potentially tense situations (trust me, I’ve seen it happen recently.) Protecting the woman in labour is paramount.

Sounds like it’s better just to stay home until you’re ready to push (which is what one doctor laughingly suggested recently).

Hmmm...at least you have a doula with you who knows the staff and your caregiver, and can provide the best possible “concierge service” around...

- Jacquie Munro, Vancouver Doula

Coming up for air...

Okay, so I've officially decided that the full moon really MUST make babies come in groups!

In the past week there have been so many babies, with their due dates randomly spaced over a six week period. Thankfully, there were no overlaps. Well, there was one 8-minute gap between two clients (it took me 8 minutes to run down the hill from one completed birth at St Paul's hospital to the next client's house on Pacific!)

So, there were two undisturbed home births, two undisturbed hospital births, and two challenging births caused by sweet posterior babies (resulting in one cesarean and one vaginal birth). The largest baby (9lb 13oz) and the smallest baby (6lb 12oz) this week were both born vaginally with no meds. What a ride!

Here are some wonderful quotes from the women in labour:
"I'm not scared, it just hurts."
"Once a contraction's over, you feel like you're in paradise."
"That was good! Almost no pain!" (about contractions in the shower)
"You have no idea how hungry I am right now!" (said at 10cm)
"That was the best experience of my life!"
"When his head came out, there was all this liquid, and it almost healed me..."
"I never knew he'd be this beautiful."
"I never knew she'd be this beautiful."

Now, if everyone else could just keep their legs together for a couple of days... I have my daughter's engagement party to get sorted!

- Jacquie Munro, Vancouver Doula

Vancouver or Bust!

One of my recent clients is a doula from Fort McMurray. She drove all the way to Vancouver to have her baby. I was honoured that she asked me to support her and her partner (and sister) through her labour. With her permission, I'd like to share a part of her email that she sent me after she had driven all the way home with the new baby (only a few days after the birth!)

"I really wanted to email you and say thank you once again for a terrific job and your incredible support. I drove to Vancouver with hopes for an amazing birth, and I couldn't have imagined it being any better, even though it was longer than I anticipated! I wrote down my birth story as you suggested, and literally just finished reading your notes. Like you said, it's so funny what a different perception you have when in labor. I love the quotes you wrote down, and I honestly thought you had arrived at my sister's place at 4am, not 4:45! You make the birth sound like it happened a heck of a lot faster than what I remember it feeling to be. What an incredible experience! Thank you for making it be so.

I can't remember if I explained this to you or not but bear with me if I already have. There are three things that you did which were crucial to my needing encouragement to carry forward. The first was the 2:30am phone call I made to you where I said I was considering going to the hospital to walk or have my waters broken and you said, "No, you're not. Go to sleep and let your baby and your body do what they need to do." I had read a birth story before driving out to BC, and this women spoke of a laboring tradition in Africa where a laboring Mom is guided to a log by village women who have not yet had children. This woman crosses the log by herself with no help and is welcomed on the other side by all the women who have children. At my sister's apartment I ventured out onto the log and at 2:30am I got stuck there. Your voice at 2:30am showed me the way across that log on my own again and you greeted me on the other side. It was amazing.

Secondly, was your word of "Safe". In my own time, mostly during a warm shower at home, I would envision myself in labor and I found myself singing a mantra of "It's okay, I'm safe here." I never explained this to you beforehand and you using that word during my contractions at the hospital renders me speechless at how effective it was in guiding me. My husband asked later if this was a word that you and I had chosen together and I said, "Not at all. She just knew."

Lastly, when it came time to get onto the bed and my contractions were extremely intense, you held onto my thighs firmly, almost as counterpressure, and it was incredible how more in control I felt during my contractions when you did this. It is definitely a tool I will carry forward when I begin doula work again. I know the hip squeeze is a welcomed favorite among my clients, but just that security of the firm hold you placed on my upper thighs was incredible. Truly.

So, thank you again so much for all that you have both helped with and taught me about. My gratitude for the opportunity to work with you goes beyond words, and should I choose to have a fourth baby in Vancouver, I sure hope I can work with you again."

...And I thank HER for letting me be a witness to her power on that day!

- Jacquie Munro, Vancouver Doula

Le Premier Cri

Don't you love Paris? There, in the Opera Metro station is an ad for an amazing birth movie. Would you ever see that here? A birth movie in full theatrical release?

However you can view Le Premier Cri, find it, view it (I googled and found the complete movie in a free download...search hard!) Yes, it's in French, but please forget all the French that you know, and listen to the birth sounds, the music, not the words of the narrators.

The cinematography is breathtaking, the births are achingly beautiful. I found myself laughing out loud in joy at the woman in Mexico being carried to her car in a blanket and transported to the seashore just after giving birth. I wanted to be the woman moving beautifully through the South American jungle to the river - stripes on her belly. There is truth in this movie.

Find this movie - the search will be worth it...

(Note: I've been getting emails from people who can't find the movie...ask a teen...honestly...they'll have it for you before the end of the day...as long as it's legal in your area.)

An Undisturbed Birth

I've been talking a lot about "an undisturbed birth" lately.

The language that we use in labour is so potent. I'm uncomfortable with many descriptive terms surrounding birth, such as "I'd like a normal birth"...or "She had a natural birth" ...or "We did a pure birth." It sounds like all others are abnormal or unnatural or impure. Birth just should be.

So, it came to me, recently, when I realized that so many of my clients have what I describe as "she just went into labour and then had the baby" births...they had all been undisturbed in labour. My role is to keep her private space protected and undisturbed, to help her feel free to move undisturbed, to be the guardian of her cave. She remains hidden, unobserved, in a safe space.

Even if I'm with her, I cast my eyes down in respect, until I am addressed. Often, I am just a hand, or a whisper, or even a silent presence beyond the curtain. Her partner sits still, a great gift, close by.

The photo shows it all. She is safe, alone in the shower. Her partner, and I, and her midwife, watch the rippling reflections on the floor, listen to the rhythmic pulsing of the shower, become transported, lost in time.

Our job is to help her remain undisturbed.

But...Oh, no! Here's the night nurse, who I usually adore. But she walks in at 7pm, saying loudly..."Och, it's HOT in here!" We all put our fingers to our lips...hope the woman dancing in the water doesn't hear... Later, the woman says her body tensed up at that moment, and she thought, "Oh, no, she's loud and Scottish!" and it took a while for her to get back into her undisturbed rhythm (and she later came to love the accent).

An undisturbed birth is a challenge to achieve, but its effects are immeasurable.

- Jacquie Munro, Vancouver Doula

Snapshots of Love

A woman sings old remembered songs in a shower. The sound of her laughter echoes in the room and blends with the sound of the water.

“Hands!” A woman opens the shower door during a contraction, reaches out and holds onto her husband’s...and my...hands. When the contraction ends, the door closes and her eyes close.

Only a few hours away from birth, a woman takes time between contractions to place tin foil on the sofas and chairs; her power remains.

“I like it here” says a woman as her head burrows into the corner of the car’s backseat.

“Hips!” “Water back!” A woman moves autonomously in labour. She calls to us to take our places during each contraction...at the hips, at the back, and at her hand.

“Happy?” The lips turn into a smile, her eyes crinkle, the water runs over her body.

“Shhhhh” Her eyes gleam as she looks at her newborn, rooting for the breast.

All these snapshots are of women under the influence of the “love hormones” - oxytocin, endorphins and prolactin. As a doula, I continually witness the softness, the power, and the amazing transformational effects of these hormones, which are released when women are undisturbed.

So, with these snapshots of birth "as I witness it" in my head, I watched The Business of Being Born online last night. The enormity of the loss of normal birth, the rising infant mortality rate, and the rise in planned cesareans in the U.S. struck me like never before. Michel Odent’s warning about what we could potentially lose made me dream about births all night.

Are we, as a civilization, beginning to lose what makes us human?

I spent today speaking with clients, and googling more of what Dr. Odent has said on the subject. In the Scientification of Love, Dr. Michel Odent explores this question, looking at love “from a scientific angle, yet with great respect for the beautiful orchestration of normal physiology as it works to its best capacity when it is undisturbed. Love, we learn, is a strategy for human survival.”

As critical as our need is to protect the environment, I think our need to protect the integrity of normal birth may even be more fundamental.

The Contraction Question

“I don’t think I’m in labour yet. I feel it really low down, all in front. It’s not hurting ALL OVER.” said the doctor on the phone.

“ALL OVER?” I asked, sounding like a parrot.

“Yeah.”

“Um...if all is well, it shouldn’t.” I was just a little bit confounded. Here I was, talking on the phone with a physician who’s been attending births for years. She’s amazing with her patients, so intuitive. Now, in labour for the first time, she was just as confused as everyone else in labour.

“Um...” I decided to go over the "what do contractions feel like?" question. “Primarily, it should stay down very low, near the pubic bone, like menstrual cramps, getting gradually longer and stronger over time. It can give you that drag-your-bum-down feeling. You may feel a sensation of heat wash over you, just like you’ve opened a pizza oven. You may feel shivery on and off. You might feel nauseous. You might have it radiate to your lower back. Everyone experiences a variation on the theme. But, you definitely shouldn't have that “grab your tummy and crumple up in agony because it hurts all over pain” as seen on TV. That’s just drama for TV. Real labour is something that you already know on so many levels. And it’s not linear. It doesn’t just get exponentially worse like on TV. It ebbs and flows.”

“Yes, I remember you telling me that. But I didn’t believe you or all the other women. So,” she asked, “when we palpate the contractions of a woman in labour by feeling the top of her uterus, she doesn’t feel any excruiciating pain up there?

“Not in a normal labour. It’s only when there’s something wrong and the body needs to get the message across BIG TIME that you can feel pain in weird places. If everything's fine, you should just feel the contractions way down low...”

“So...uh...what I’ve been feeling all day might just be labour?”

“Probably. The start of labour is something that you will only figure out retrospectively. But, I can hear in your voice that you’re having contractions about every four minutes. You keep fading out. How about if I come over, and we can figure it out together...”

Well, to make a long story short, I went over to find that she WAS in active labour. Her lovely son was born only a few hours later.

Now, I don’t tell this story to poke fun at the doctor, but to show that, no matter who we are, we all have various ideas about how contractions may feel. We've been bombarded by descriptions all our lives. But these descriptions tell us more about the person who is doing the describing than about contractions themselves. Our perceptions are unique. So, whether we’re a family doctor with years of training and experience, or have read every book there is on pregnancy, or have listened closely to all our friends describe their experiences...our personal experience of contractions will be unique.

No matter what, even if this is your first labour, the contractions will be something that you recognize. They may not be what you expected, but they will be something that you "know" on a gut level. Hey, you're not going to get to age 30-something and then have the body throw you a complete curve ball, are you? Trust your body to let you know what it needs. As a doula, my role is to help you navigate your particular labour, no matter who you are, and what kind of labour you are "given". I try to help you shut down your 21st century brain, and accept the logic of the reptile brain.

And, wonderfully, that’s exactly what this doctor had done in her own labour...

I think one of the reasons she had such a smooth labour was because she didn’t NAME it “labour” until her body forced her to acknowledge it. She didn’t watch the clock. She didn’t waste emotional energy on waiting for labour to speed up, or to perform in any particular way. She just let it go, basically ignoring it, just like you would try to ignore cramps during a particularly nasty period. Who cares that she'd done all this because she was expecting something FAR worse than the reality.

I’m actually in awe of her way of getting through labour.

Maybe we should all try it.

That's it! Time's up!

Love this sign! What a laugh!

But it does make me think about the very real anxiety that surrounds birth...and time.

When I initially ask clients what they wish for, the most common answer is, "A fast birth."

However, after we've been working together for a number of months, most clients realize that each labour takes as long as it needs - no more, no less. Each woman's task in labour is to accept its flow, allowing it to unfold as it should. Time and space start to recede, endorphins increase, tension starts to release, and then labour works well.

To put a time limit on any labour harms its natural rhythm. Birth is a psychosexual process. And, just like lovemaking, it withers when it is pressured by time.

Ultimately, once you understand the nature of birth and its relationship with time, you settle into a pace that fits you and your baby on this particular day. It may be fast. It may be slow. But, it should never be rushed or ruled by the clock.

So, don't be pressured by that sign...

- Jacquie Munro, Vancouver Doula

Madonna

This evocative Madonna collage will always remind me of the couple (both artists) who recently gave it to me as a gift after their daughter's birth. A treasure. It hangs in my room, and will also remind me of all the births I have attended - the layering of experience, the significance of cherished objects, the importance of history, the value of memories, the power of nature.

I see an old family portrait, a pomegranate, the impermanent dandelions, the water lily, the doll I had as a child, that special bike, that beautiful floor fragment, a cupola with light streaming through to the ground. We each see those things in the collage that hold meaning for us.

Labour is like this. Fragments, layers, images - all confusing, deeply challenging, yet breathtakingly beautiful. Our births are not "the pain." Our births are not physical. Ultimately, they are not of the body, they are of the mind. They are personal, they are dependent upon perception, they are ours. We birth as we live.

Birth is not "paint by numbers." Each birth is like a collage - totally different for each woman, each birth.

Five births since Christmas - each teaching us all new lessons to draw upon. I will look at the collage and name a part for each woman.

- With love and thanks to Tanis and David
www.silentalbum.com

Äpfel schütteln

"Komm, wir wollen Apfel schütteln,
Äpfel schütteln;
alle Kinder helfen rütteln.
Ria, ria, ria, rums."

This German children's song would be perfect to sing while shaking a woman's hips with your hands in labour. One of the many indigenous practices used for centuries to loosen the pelvic muscles and ease a baby's journey through the pelvis, "shaking the apples" works really well with first time mums in early labour, as well as multips as they approach birth.

I heard the term "Äpfel schütteln" used by an older German midwife about 15 years ago. We were in the attic of an old Kitsilano house, trying to fix the malposition of a baby late in labour. My client had hit a plateau at 8 cm, and, after a good half hour of vigourous hip shaking by the midwife, the woman said, "Did you hear that thunk?!" Then the labour took off, we all dashed to the hospital, and the baby was born.

I "shake the apples" to help second-time mums release muscles and allow the baby to be born. Sometimes, it just takes a two-minute shake, then she says, "It's coming!" Most times, she's sure the shaking knocked at least half an hour off the labour time.

Think of the speed that a paint can shakes in the machine at the hardware store...or the speed of a woman's hips during a Tahitian dance...

And it feels so good!

Walking the Labyrinth

"You are a gift to me beloved
trust my body
trust my baby
breathe..."


Last night, friends and family painted the labyrinth in the living room of a woman in early labour, hoping that she would have a chance to walk the labyrinth as the labour progressed. But her labour skyrocketed and her baby was born sweetly before the paint had time to fully dry!

But I think she had been metaphorically "walking the labyrinth" for a long time and was fully ready. There were no blocks. She trusted her body, trusted her baby, and held firm and fast to her husband, whose hands held the baby's head as it slid out into the flickering light of a candle.

With a labyrinth there is only one choice to be made. The choice is to enter or not. With the smooth and quick birth of this beautiful boy, the choice was made. What a joyful entry to the world.